


Crosshairs

by ThereIsNoTragedyInThat



Series: The Space Between the First and Last Breath [4]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Movie: The Old Guard (2020), Protective Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Protective Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Temporary Character Death, Whumptober
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:42:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26792326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThereIsNoTragedyInThat/pseuds/ThereIsNoTragedyInThat
Summary: Joe felt like they were losing their touch.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: The Space Between the First and Last Breath [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947598
Comments: 8
Kudos: 169
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Crosshairs

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Held at Gunpoint

Joe felt like they were losing their touch.

He and Andy had their hands raised above their heads, glaring at the woman and man holding them at gunpoint. In theory, this wouldn’t be much of an issue, Joe and Andy had years of experience getting out of shit like this, except…well they were immortal and the occasional gun shot wound to a shoulder or arm or torso wasn’t exactly something that got in the way. Now though, Joe looked at Andy and her clenched jaw and willed her not to react. She wouldn’t survive a face off right now, not unscathed.

The woman was saying something into her earpiece, her expression twisted into anger and Joe knew Nile and Booker were giving them hell, they just needed to stay calm. Better yet, he let his gaze drift to the wall of windows behind them, instinct and something much more sacred, telling him his Nicolò wasn’t far away.

“Alsabr,” Joe murmured, just for Andy to hear.

She didn’t react but he knew she heard him. The man narrowed his eyes and Joe really needed someone to back them up and quickly. There was a crackle in his ear but there were no words and he was starting to wonder where everyone was. He could only assume Nicolò was getting into position, but the rest of the security must be giving the others more trouble then they should.

“They want them alive,” the woman said to her companion and that was their first break all night. “Unless they cause trouble.”

Joe and Andy glanced at each other.

“We’ve already killed the one, so don’t try to fuck with us.”

The man’s words were said with a smug, cruel tone and Joe stared at him, something inside him twisting despite the fact that those words should mean next to nothing for him, for Andy. Still, she tensed next to him, subtle but deadly and Joe was already calculating what he’d have to do to keep her out of the line of fire.

Joe tried very hard not to think about the fact that Nicky should have been in position a long time ago, about the fact that Nile and Booker should have already come, guns blazing. He didn’t want to run the numbers, didn’t want to let himself get carried away with the thought of his family, his Nicolò all by themselves, not waking up.

Gunfire echoed from just outside the door and just like that they were moving. Joe swung to the side, taking a bullet to the arm before it could hit Andy and already firing his own weapon at the man. The woman was distracted by the door flying open which left an easy opening for Andy to slice her throat in one smooth move. Booker and Nile rushed into the room, followed quickly by a hoard of men and woman in the too dark uniforms of private security.

The sight made something hot and furious rush through his body because there were no obvious injuries on Nile and Booker which meant…he moved fast, running into the heat of it all and leaving Nile to defend Andy, his one goal being to end this so he could find Nicky.

It was a whirlwind of blood, gunshots, and cries of pain, time passing both too slow and yet he knew they were making quick work of it. Out of nowhere, the sensation of warm metal being pressed to the back of his head made him freeze, knowing in a split second he’d be facedown on the floor.

It did not come.

He swung around at the sound of a body slumping to the floor and stared at the pool of blood spilling on to the glossy marble. The others were still fighting but Joe looked toward the wall of windows, spotting cracks in the glass. Just like that, the rest of their enemies began to drop like flies, mid-battle and something inside Joe soared with relief.

A quick look with Booker and he was out the door, leaving behind the carnage as he rushed down the stairs. They probably had twenty minutes before reinforcements came but they only needed five to get the rest of the files…they didn’t need him right then.

It was late so the streets were blessedly abandoned as he jogged across the road, toward the neighboring skyscraper. He tried to calculate what floor Nicky had probably been on, though he certainly loathed the thought of traversing more stairs. His best bet was that Nicky was on the ninth floor when he’d set up shop, his lungs were already burning at the thought.

As it turned out he didn’t need to worry about it.

The moment he pushed into the lobby he was met with the sight of Nicolò stepping out of a corridor, his gun hanging off his shoulder. They looked at each other for a moment and then Joe was darting across the space, their foreheads pressed together as they just breathed.

Joe let the fear go, felt Nicky against him and made himself believe it, that he was here, that he was safe. Pulling back, he took in Nicky’s too soft smile and he ran his hands gently over him, until his fingers felt the thick congealed blood on the back of his head, the hole in his sweatshirt.

Someone had shot Nicky in the back of the head. He could see it in his mind, Nicky kneeling with his gun braced against the windowsill, his focus entirely on his family below, like a guardian angel.

“Its alright Yusuf,” Nicky assured him, squeezing his shoulder.

He shook his head, “I hope you made it hurt for him.”

Nicky’s lips quirked, “I can not say that but that is not what is important. How is Andy?”

The question was so sincere, so concerned that he could not hold on to what was left of his anger. Chuckling quietly, he pulled Nicky close as they made their way toward the door, “of course she’s alright Nicky. Of course.”


End file.
